Home a holy place

Coming Back Up!

The respiratory flu made its rounds right about Christmas. It was far nastier than I thought. Michael was sick on the Friday before Christmas and then most of us took our turn. Tuesday was the day of attack on me and down I went. I've been sick maybe once in 6-7 years and I was so cockeyed sure that I was immune to this one. Not so. Horizontal was the only possible stance to fight from. After a couple of days of withdrawing from the known world, I moved into accomplish something mode. But it wasn't smart. I'm tired, really tired. And the frustrations appear. Then I was mad. Then sad. So my small attempt to inspire today is to share the following smart things to do list:

Smart things to do: when you are mad, sad, down or have said not smart things:
(This list is meant to be anecdotal, not prescriptional.)

Recognize if you have been indoors for four days, you are not rational.
Go for a walk outside.
Carefully study and notice the beauty in the natural world around you.
Write down how you feel and burn it. Do it again.
Say "I'm sorry."
Clean something.
Listen to good music.
Rest.
Have a simple, light conversation.
List things you are grateful for.
Notice any bit of improvement and celebrate immediately.

"...Has given my heart

A change of mood..."

(from "Dust of Snow" by Robert Frost

Generosity Brings Abundance

With a big sigh I crossed the Costco parking lot realizing again that being ahead of the game would have made today and the coming holiday season easier. I had not yet begun Christmas preparations and was feeling a bit overwhelmed. The quiet thought came, "Give Christmas to the Savior." Meaning, I felt, don't stress, trust Him, and He will make it better than you possibly could. That thought was renewing despite the heavy feeling I couldn't seem to shake. A few minutes later I returned to the car with groceries and started loading them in the second seat as I had parked facing out and a large white truck had parked behind me and there wasn't space to open the back. Then a man called out cheerily, "Can I lift your groceries? After all, I parked so close behind you, you can't use the back." I was stunned. Seriously, I was the one who chose to park facing out, primarily causing my own problem, which really was a non-problem, but there he was cheerily helping me with the groceries and hauling my cart back. Waving a thank you, I jumped in my suburban and thought about his generosity and began to cry. His generosity of spirit touched me deeply. Generosity softens hearts and engenders gratitude. Heaven surely must be watching over me already and sending the message, Give Christmas to Me. and I wanted to be generous too.

The next day at Thanksgiving a beautiful table of pumpkin and fruit pies was set out on beautiful plates at alternating levels with silver servers made by my talented niece. You could feel the labor of love just looking at that table. After the meal, my generous sister-in-law encouraged us to take extra pie home. Her spirit of generosity filled and flowed through the kitchen and hearts. Again, I was stunned at the excitement that this simple act of generosity created as some of us contemplated pie for breakfast the next day.

I'm reminded of the simple gifts of notes, rocks and picked flowers my younger children would bring me. They have nothing, they give it all, and the spirit of abundance is present. Generosity is not having and then giving. It is giving and then having.

In rediscovering this attribute of generosity, I define and discover generosity as: a healing attribute that softens hearts. A contagious characteristic born of gratitude. That which when exercised creates abundance.

The Annual Review: Why I Garden

I walked outside early this morning to gather the last of the tomatoes. Even though there was a light frost a few weeks ago, the previously green ones, were now a ripe red and peeked out between the brownish vines. They looked plump and juicy. What a treat for a late October day! The smell of tomatoes filled my nose as I clipped the vines and removed the tomato cages. The almost warm wind sent a reminder of the change in the seasons and the dappled sunlight through the leaves of trees had a shimmering effect on the soil. The spaghetti and butternut squash openly rested on the brown dirt sending comforting thoughts of satisfying and nurturing future soups and breads. A peace comes as one prepares for the coming rest of wintertime, knowing there will be healthy food on the table. The ground is a testament to the results of taking care of the earth. I see the terrestrial completion of seeds planted in faith, worked with care, and the resultant harvest. Both thoughts of the work ahead to ready the soil for another year and gratitude for the abundant harvest fill my heart and mind.

As I'm pondering these thoughts, enter recalcitrant unwilling help and/or not help from children who had other designs for their day. The tomato cages need to come in, the potatoes dug, the spaghetti squash cut and cured. Then I ask my annual questions: Is this what I want to do with my time? Why do I garden? Mentally, I list my con arguments:

so much time required (planning, planting, weeding, watering, harvesting, preserving.)
the constant challenge to persuade and follow up on the family assignments. This involves encouraging recalcitrant, unwilling people who remind me they have other things to do.

Then I mentally list my pro arguments:

Connection: I am connected to heaven as we co-create this plot of planet earth. Heaven teaches me of gratitude, patience, work, nurture and joy in the garden creation.
Conversation: Working side by side with family creates space and time for sharing thoughts, humor, and challenges. I particularly enjoyed a recent garden conversation with a child about the joy of real things versus the artificial.
Independence and initiative: We can produce, try new things and enjoy the self sufficiency of growing our own food. This builds confidence and capability.
Health: Organic. Fresh. Green. Not to mention the exercise in fresh air and the mental health benefit of garden creation.
Experience the law of the harvest: Work and labor with God's help bring abundant results. We see the generosity of heaven, feel to rejoice and share with family, and friends.

These moments of remembering bring me to the annual conclusion: Gardening will continue. I remind myself in this mental ritual that more than vegetable seeds are growing here. We are growing people, hopefully people with connection, understanding, independence, healthy habits, gratitude and generosity.

I almost hear the garden whisper in the morning sunlight, keep placing "faith in the earth." There is a peace, healing, and abundance here. I hope they will find the same in their own family gardens one day. As they capably and willingly now retire the tomato cages, I can just begin to taste the joyful reflection of both harvests, sweeter than I imagined.

A garden requires patient labor and attention. Plants do not grow merely to satisfy ambitions or to fulfill good intentions. They thrive because someone expended effort on them. Liberty Hyde Bailey
Read more at: http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/l/libertyhyd198927.html

Plants do not grow merely to satisfy ambitions or to fulfill good intentions. They thrive because someone expended effort on them.
Read more at: http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/l/libertyhyd198927.html

"If you've never experienced the

joy of accomplishing

more than you can imagine,

plant a garden."

~ Robert Brault

Why I Look Back

What is it about family history? Why do I feel this continual tug to gather family stories? Why do I feel this hunger to know what the women and men I came from were like?

Yesterday I asked on a family facebook page if anyone had information about Anna Bertha Geigle, my great grandmother who came from Germany and had 11 children. From a link a family member sent me I learned among other things that her home was a gathering place for friends and neighbors, that she made wonderful sandwiches for others and good apple cottage cheese pies. That simple piece speaks to me. Is it because I too want to make my home a place where people gather, are fed great food and feel at home? While places and props differ, is my desire so different from hers today? I wish I could peek into the past and learn more from her, her thoughts and desires.

As I look back, I find stories like these:

My dad's horses ran away and he prayed for help to get them back and his prayer was answered.
My great great grandfather was sent to build roads in Southern Utah by Brigham Young. He was promised amazing blessings, all of which came to pass, including finding a silver mine.
My mom found herself under a moving car as a young child and rolled out unhurt on her way to school.
My great grandmother reached out to the community and taught sewing and self reliance to young girls. She provided for her family for decades as a result of her husband's disappearance.
My grandfather was progressive, always looking for new ways to do things. He was also a listener and people always felt like they knew what to do after talking to him, yet he never told them what to do.

This history of moms, dads, babies, children, aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, gives their posterity a rich heritage of successes, failures, sadnesses and joys from which to learn. The similarity and proximity of their stories remind us that we are inseparably connected.

Hundreds of years ago, two parents sent their four children to Jerusalem to get family records engraved on plates. They risked their lives to have these stories. They likely knew they would never return to their home town and the stories required by heaven among other things were necessary to sustain strength and build faith in them and their posterity as they traveled in the wilderness. I feel like that. I'm retrieving my "plates" to help me and mine in our wildernesses. My children and their skills are key in this quest. I love the emails from my daughter to my mother that say, "Tell me about your mom. Tell me stories about when you were little."

What am I looking back to find? I'm looking for identity and compassion. I'm seeking strength and protection. I'm searching for faith and understanding. Their roles and identity were clear to them, and I see the fruits. Compassion is evident in their examples of sacrifice and reaching out to others. Strength emerges as I see they did hard things, so I can too. Protection comes to those who seek to bless those who have passed on by doing for them what they cannot do for themselves. Faith and understanding wrap around me as I appreciate their struggles and sacrifices. When they succeed, I want to shout for joy, and when they struggle I want to wrap my arms around them and reassure them. And maybe they feel the same way about us.

I'm searching for the stories that bear these things out to pass on to my children. If ever there was a time they needed examples of identity and compassion it is now. If ever there was a season for strength and protection, it is today. And if ever there was an urgency for faith and understanding, it is before us. The hope is as we look back, we can then move forward with vision and purpose. That is why I look back.

My Mother Believes In Me!

I just got back from visiting my mom. We were creating a mother, daughter photo with Great Grandma Ruth's oatmeal cake for an upcoming wedding shower. I had a small window of time and so as we put the ingredients together, I was a little careless with the measurements. We laughed together over how precise the measurements were carried out 60 years ago and how casual we are now. When the tablespoon or cup wasn't quite full on the first dump, I added a little more just to make sure. Even though mom was skeptical that the recipe could turn out like it was supposed to, we moved forward laughing and measuring and stirring. She tasted the first square of cake with broiled icing and she said, "I remember, now. This was a good recipe." We basked in the joy of recreating a heritage recipe of more than 80 years. We smiled that perhaps Ruth might have been watching us and laughing too.

I loved the cake, the laughter, the setting up of the photo, but most of all, I love that my mom believes in me. She believed I could help her take the picture and upload it. She believed that I could figure out how to set the timer on the fancy camera. She even believed that somehow the recipe would turn out OK. There is something wonderful knowing someone believes in you. In my mom's eyes, I can do anything. Her belief in me is one of the most empowering elements in my life.

Everyone needs someone to believe in them. We all need statements of encouragement, someone to say:

I knew you could do it!
I believe in you!
You are amazing!

On a recent hike to Timpanogas Peak, at a weary moment, I asked my son for a pep talk. He said, "You can do this mom, You've got this." And so I did. All 14 miles round trip and 4580 feet up and back.

And so I want to say to my children and any and all who have even a moment of doubt on a difficult day, maybe for many, many days, "I believe in you! You can do this! You've got this!" Whatever fears and challenges are holding you back, won't amount to two hoots compared to what you have within you, for you and supporting you. And if we can't hear the voices of faith around us, we can know, of a surety, that God believes in us. "You will make it!"

What I Learned While Weeding

I am grateful for our large garden. There are many benefits to raising a family with a garden. We learn about the law of the harvest, discipline, and timing. We learn about how to meet challenges and enjoy healthier food. It does however, take time, and lots of it to plan, till, plant, fertilize, weed and harvest. Did I say weed? This is perhaps the most time consuming job in our garden and where we chose to ignore the problem, the weeds take over.

While on my knees weeding down the rows of corn, I have pulled a lot of quack grass. It always surprised me that the quack grass grows profusely in the corn. It is as if it is trying to look like corn, act like corn and be like corn so it won't be pulled. While weeding the potatoes, I have noticed a similar phenomenon. Red root grows profusely in the potatoes. It looks similar to a potato plant and stares at me almost defiantly as if saying, "I'm a potato, don't pull me." These weeds act as impostors trying to pose as the real thing. They sit there staring at me trying to pose as the original and they are not. I look at those weeds and I say, "I know what you are. I know what you are trying to be. I can tell the difference between you and the vegetable intended for this space."

There are trends, fads and causes posing like the real thing. They are not. There are no adequate substitutes for the real thing in family, marriage and worship. It is almost as if they are saying, "Here, we are! We are the real thing!" But red root does not grow potatoes and quack grass will never grow ears of corn.

At the colloquium on marriage and family at the Vatican in Rome, Italy in 2014, many world religious leaders spoke on the sanctity of marriage and the importance of family. Pope Francis said,

“We now live in a culture of the temporary, ... This revolution in manners and morals has often flown the flag of freedom, but in fact it has brought spiritual and material devastation to countless human beings..."(1)

The temporary he spoke of reminds me of what is trying hard to look like the real thing in my garden. Henry B. Eyring said,

"We take the commitment and the sanctity of marriage to a greater level ... families go back to before this earth was and ... they can go forward into eternity." (2)

The concept that marriage and family are eternal, going both directions is the real thing! And there is nothing like the real thing. Just as we can't pull ears of corn from quack grass, we wouldn't put our feet in a sandbox and say we had spent a day at the beach. The sweet taste of the fruit comes from the authentic and real vegetable, bush or tree. The gorgeous shore line of the beach is truly seen and felt by those who strive for the family ideal on the horizon. Strong traditional families are the basic units of a stable society and of eternity. That is the real thing!

1. Pope Francis, address at Humanum: An International Interreligious Colloquium on the Complementarity of Man and Woman, Nov. 17, 2014, humanum.it/en/videos; see also zenit.org/en/articles/pope-francis-address-at-opening-of-colloquium-on-complementarity-of-man-and-woman.
2. https://www.lds.org/general-conference/2015/04/why-marriage-and-family-matter-everywhere-in-the-world?lang=eng&_r=1

Little Lamb, Who Made Thee?

One of my favorite memories is hearing my husband sing this tender song:

Little Lamb, Who Made Thee?

Little lamb, who made thee?

Dost thou know who made thee,
Gave thee life, and bid thee feed
By the stream and o’er the mead;
Gave thee clothing of delight,
Softest clothing, wooly, bright;
Gave thee such a tender voice,
Making all the vales rejoice?
Little lamb, who made thee?
Dost thou know who made thee?

Little lamb, I’ll tell thee;
Little lamb, I’ll tell thee:
He is called by thy name,
For He calls Himself a lamb,
He is meek, and He is mild,
He became a little child;
I a child, and thee a Lamb,
We are called by His Name.
Little lamb, God bless thee!
Little lamb, God bless thee!

- by William Blake

The words take me back to those tender bedtime hours when he would hold a baby or a toddler in the big rocking chair and sing about Jesus to calm and reassure our children for the night. The feeling that all was well flowed through each one of us.

Now near 20 years have passed and I'm realizing the truths taught in the song have more meaning than ever. Now, more than ever, I feel like a needy lamb and I need to trust Jesus to be my shepherd, watch over our children, calm my anxious heart and fill my soul with desire to do His will. I'm learning that my way is too often in His way. That Christ alone knows the way through, up and forward for each of his children.

Too often I have trusted my knowledge, my experience, my habits to lead the way to success. Oh little lamb, "Who made thee?" Divine insight and knowledge trumps the ways of the world every time, every day, in every way.

The heartfelt message I would give my children today is the same as my husband's voice in that song long ago:

spetenfia/shutterstock.com

Little Lamb who made thee?

Dost thou know who made thee?

...Little lamb, I'll tell thee:

... Little lamb, God bless thee!